SAHM I Am

by Meredith Efken

  As happy as this makes me, I did learn something, though. I have saddlebags! Waaaahhhhhh! I guess I never saw them before because they blended in with the general rotundness of my legs. And my stomach still has that slightly lumpy “I’ve had three children in two pregnancies” look to it. The moral of my story? There’s more to being content with myself than fitting into a certain clothing size. *sigh* So, in regard to Dulcie’s Quest for a Positive Self-Image…the saga continues.

  Dulcie

  * * *

  From:

  The Millards

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Re: Dress Update

  * * *

 

  Well, duh, Dulcie! I could have told you that.:) But I’m glad your diet was successful for you. Congratulations. Enjoy wearing your…. attention-getting dress. Did you take your MIL up on her offer of a bridesmaid swimsuit, too? That idea just cracked me up. I want pictures of the dress and the swimsuit—with you in them! Better yet, do a scrapbook like Rosalyn suggested. It’s your “sacred duty” after all….

  Jocelyn

  * * *

  From:

  VIM

  To:

  SAHM I Am

  Subject:

  [SAHM I AM] New SAHM Intro

  * * *

  Silly people, why should I make a calendar or scrapbook, when you’ll be able to purchase the stinking video from the Shoji Tabuchi Gift Shop? (And pictures of me in a swimsuit? Don’t hold your breath.)

  Gotta go finish packing! I will give you as many updates as I can, but the schedule is going to be insane. At least I can use Tom’s laptop once he gets to the hotel. I wasn’t sure he would room with me. Then, when he said he was planning to, I made the mistake of acting all excited about it. His response? “Well, it would be kind of stupid to pay for two hotel rooms, don’t you think?” Ugh! Boys are so dumb sometimes! :)

  Dulcie

  * * *

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Re: Dress Update

  * * *

  A big howdy from a brand-new stay-at-home mama in Houston, TX! I just got married this year and now have three stepchildren. It’s a lot more difficult than I thought to be a mom and a career woman. So, even though I had a successful, award-winning marketing career, I’ve quit my job and am fixing to stay home with my children from now on. There’s a certain someone special on this loop who inspired me to take this step, and I know she will be absolutely flabbergasted to read this e-mail—but I’ve always loved surprises. LOL! :)

  I’m as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rocking chairs about doing the SAHM thing—I never did feel so lonely as this morning when I waved goodbye to my sweet husband and it was just me and little Stanley. How on EARTH do you all fill your blessed days? I know I’ll need lots of help and advice, so lay it on me!

  Just a big greenhorn from Texas when it comes to SAHMing,

  Veronica Marcello

  * * *

  From:

  LOOPHOLE GROUPS NOTIFICATION

  To:

  VIM

  Subject:

  UNSUBSCRIPTION FROM SAHM I AM

  * * *

  This notice is to inform you that you have been unsubscribed from the SAHM I Am e-mail loop by the moderator. If you have questions or feel this action is in error, please contact sahmiam-moderator@loophole.com.

  Sincerely,

  Loopy! Loophole Administration

  * * *

  From:

  Connie Lawson

  To:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  Subject:

  Veronica Marcello

  * * *

  Rosalyn,

  I got an e-mail this evening from the new SAHM I Am member, Veronica Marcello, who was very upset because she had been unsubscribed from the loop. I checked the loop activity and found that you were the one who removed her. Why? I thought we had agreed to talk to each other before kicking anyone off the loop. What were you thinking? She sounds like she’s practically in tears over it, poor thing. Please put her back on the loop immediately.

  Love,

  Connie

  * * *

  From:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  To:

  Connie Lawson

  Subject:

  Re: Veronica Marcello

  * * *

  Connie, she’s my sister. Need I say more?

  “She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.”

  Proverbs 31:27 (NASB)

  * * *

  From:

  Connie Lawson

  To:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  Subject:

  Re: Veronica Marcello

  * * *

 

  Yes, actually. I know you two haven’t always gotten along, but that’s no reason to ban her from our group. We’re open to any SAHM who needs us—you know that.

  * * *

  From:

  Rosalyn Ebberly

  To:

  Connie Lawson

  Subject:

  MORE

  * * *

  Getting along has nothing to do with it! I can’t take any more! It’s bad enough that my parents blatantly favor her—always have from the moment she was born—that everyone admires her and her “astonishing” accomplishments. They don’t even care that she can barely remember college because she partied all the time, and STILL managed to stay in the honors program, that she had a new boyfriend every three weeks, that she lied on her résumé to get her first job after graduating. Meanwhile, I became a Christian, was a virgin when I got married, worked hard to finish college with a B average and help my husband get his degree, have given birth to three children, gave up any chance of my own career to raise them and have had important successes of my own.

  My parents don’t give a hoot that my quilts and cooking win awards, that I have a special mentoring ministry for young women at church, that I have published articles in family magazines. All they care about is Veronica. And now that she is married to this exotic Italian photographer with his three gorgeous children and palatial house—with housekeeper, I might add—they don’t give me or my children the time of day! They skipped my birthday last week to go to Houston for Frank’s debut photography exhibit. They ignore my kids and insult my husband.

  Oh, and Ronnie—she’s such a sham! When she moved to Houston, she decided having a Southern accent would be cute, so now her e-mails are all sprinkled with “y’alls” and “bless your hearts” and “well, aren’t you cute” (which really means you’re an idiot), the incessant “there ya go”(whatever that means) and other linguistic flotsam and jetsam from Hicksville, Texas. Good grief, we were born and raised in Chicago! There’s not a drop of Texan blood in her. She just does it for attention.

  I can live with all that—goodness knows, I’ve managed to for most of my life.

  But now she’s gone and horned in on my territory! Domestic life was the one area in which I excelled, in which she had no part. It was my one chance to try to make my parents proud of me. And now she wants to be on my e-mail loop! How dare she quit her job? How dare she try to live my life as well as hers? She did this on purpose. She can’t stand not being the best in everything. And now Mom and Dad are calling her a hero, just because she’s decided to stay at home. In my seven years of SAHM-hood, have they ever once said I was a hero? No! They’ve called me unambitious, boring and a disappo
intment. But never a hero. I’m sick of it.

  So, here’s the deal, Connie. You’re right—we can’t turn down people who need the loop. And if she really was dumb enough to quit her job, she’s going to need it. She doesn’t have a clue what being a SAHM will mean for her. But I refuse to stick around and listen to her little jabs, subtle put-downs and reminders that I am and always will be second best in my family. I don’t need more of that than I already have.

  I am officially resigning as Loop Moderator and as a member of SAHM I Am. You don’t really need me anyway, and it will just be easier for everyone this way. In fact, make Veronica the new moderator—you can make all her questions the topics of the week.

  Goodbye,

  Rosalyn

  “She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.”

  Proverbs 31:27 (NASB)

  * * *

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Report From Branson #1

  * * *

  Dulcie Huckleberry, reporting live from Branson, MO, Thursday, May 19, where I have just arrived at my hotel, and have met Tom’s cousin Diana who will be minding my children for the majority of the weekend.

  “Minding the children” is a good way to put it, too, since I doubt it will be the other way around—children minding her. She’s barely 20, barely dressed and barely endowed with common sense. If we can survive the weekend without the kids talking her into letting them overdose on TV cartoons and candy, I’ll consider it a success. But to be fair, I don’t think they’ll be in any real danger, except perhaps from tooth decay. And to think, Brenna, by the time you were her age, you had a daughter McKenzie’s age! Wow!

  Anyway, she’s going to watch the kids all day tomorrow so I can run errands with Jeanine and Becky. Then comes the evening rehearsal dinner, followed by the rehearsal at 11 p.m.—and that’s if by some miracle we start on time. But we had to wait until after the evening show lets out. I’ve given strict instructions that McKenzie is to have an early supper and go to bed at 5 tomorrow, so that we can keep her out that late. I hope Jeanine realizes what this shows about how much I love her!

  More later,

  Dulcie

  * * *

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Branson Report #2

  * * *

  *GREAT BIG YAWN* Good morning, ladies…it’s 4 a.m. Saturday morning. I thought about e-mailing Rosalyn, just to brag about how I’m actually awake already, but I’m too sleepy to be catty this time. I’ve been up all night, decorating the theater. I sent Jeanine home at midnight, after the rehearsal. I figured it would be better for the bridesmaids to look like leftover mac’n’cheese than the bride herself. We finally finished at 3:30 a.m., but I didn’t figure it would do me any good to go to sleep—just make it harder to wake up later.

  Overall, the rehearsal went fairly well—if you don’t count the fact that the horse never showed up. Who knew animals could double-book, too? So we’re going to have to wing the processional today. Actually, me and Jeanine and Becky will be “winging.” I guess Morris and his horse will have to “hoof” it. Okay, bad pun, I know…what do you expect on zero sleep?

  Speaking of winging, I’ve never had to be lowered from a ceiling before. It involved climbing a catwalk above the stage and entrusting my life to a flimsy, cheesy-looking star, controlled by a stagehand who looks about 13 and thought it was really funny to let out the cable too fast and watch us cling to the star, shrieking and screeching. Well, that was bad enough, but then, while I was answering a question about the placement of the candelabras, he coaxed McKenzie into the star and did it to her! She started screaming! When I saw her, high over my head, terrified out of her mind, my temper got the better of me. After McKenzie returned to earth and I consoled her, I marched across the stage, grabbed the stagehand by the ear and gave a good, motherly twist, immensely enjoying his howl of pain. “You ever do something like that to my child again, young man, and I will tear your ear clean off. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he sputtered.

  I let go his ear, and stalked off. Everyone else backed out of my way. You just don’t mess with a mommy!

  You guys, Im getting so tired…at least I cna take a nap this afternoon btweeeen the wedding in the morning adn the reception in evening. Wow, did you kow that if you stare at a computer screen for five minutes and then look away, youcan see littl splotches that look remarkably like oascar the grouch?

  After the rehersl i had to help decorate the theater. Jeanine paid to have an enetire set constrecuted to look like a church, copmlete witn shtained glas windows and a big cross. If she wanntde to make it lok like her widding ina chruch, why didnt she just hae the wjdding in a church? Pardon my tpos, i’m to tird to fxi them. and then we had to ty big pew bows to the asle seats—bows that ligt up and emit bubbles from the flowerz, Anueods, chy, csssssssssyyyyyy4, src..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

  * * *

  From:

  Dulcie Huckleberry

  To:

  “Green Eggs and Ham”

  Subject:

  Branson Report #3

  * * *

  Hey, girls, I’m so sorry about my early-morning post! I fell asleep at the computer, and must have pushed “Send” when my head hit the keyboard. I woke up to find it was 8:07—and I was supposed to be at the theater by 8:30! So I went banging around the hotel room, waking up Tom and the girls, who didn’t have to be awake for another forty minutes. After the world’s quickest shower, and blow-drying my hair, I managed to grab my dress and supplies and get over to the theater by 9.

  I’ll spare you the details of getting ready—the hairdresser who griped about how difficult my hair was to work with, how Tom forgot to bring McKenzie’s dress with them to the theater, how tense things were between me and Tom…Well, perhaps I shouldn’t spare that detail. Things between Tom and me were tense—really tense. Last night, when he arrived at the theater for rehearsal, I was in the middle of trying to line up the wedding party on the stage. Jeanine had her ideas, Morris had his, I had mine, the pastor had his. Mine were the only not-ridiculous ones, so I was already stressed. I looked out across the empty theater and saw Tom at the back. For a moment our eyes met, and both of us froze. I stopped talking mid-sentence, and everyone suddenly got all awkward and busy. Evidently Jeanine had been spreading tales about the two of us…

  Anyway, we haven’t really had a chance to do more than say “hi,” “bye,” and “you better run back to the hotel and grab Mac’s dress,” and “yes, dear.” Like I said…tense.

  Okay, back to the wedding…So finally, I was dressed, and so was McKenzie. The set was staged, the costumes were peopled, and I hurried backstage to climb up to the catwalk to prepare for my descent.

  Do you know how impossible it is to climb a catwalk in a mermaid dress and spiked heels? Guess this is why actors do dress rehearsals in costume. There was absolutely no way for Becky and me to raise our feet high enough to reach the ladder rungs without just pulling our dresses past our waists and climbing in our never-minds. So here I was, minutes before the start of the processional (or descentional, rather), halfway up a ladder, with all the backstage guys gawking. Becky shimmied up pretty quick, but I snagged part of the dress on the ladder. Since it was all bunched up around my middle, I couldn’t see where it was stuck. Becky was now frantically motioning to me to hurry, but all I could do was shake my head and point to my dress, mouthing, I’m stuck!

  By this time, the people below must have figured out my dilemma. They cued the musicians to continue the prelude, while Jeanine sat up in the catwalk on her moon, looking pale and faint. It should have occurred to me, I suppose, to wonder how she got up there. Turns out she had the good sense, before
they opened the theater, to have the moon lowered. She climbed up and got a free ride. Grrrrr…She is the bride. She is the bride. She is the bride….

  Anyway, back to me stuck on the ladder. I was starting to wonder if my arms were going to fall off, or if it might be more comfortable to simply kick my shoes off rather than stand on the ladder in heels. The thought of nailing the manic stagehand from last night with one of the spiked heels did appeal to me. Suddenly, I heard and felt someone below me on the ladder.

  It was Tom, climbing the opposite side. When he reached the rung I was on, he slid his feet between mine. We were smashed together real close, with only the ladder between us. “I hear you’re stuck,” he said. I nodded at him. He wound his hand under a rung, into the folds of my dress, feeling along me and the ladder until he found where I was snagged. Then, he hooked one arm around the ladder so he could use both hands to free me.